A Lonely Story About Nobody
by Colorslander
Summary: Her name is Naminé. His is Vanitas. This story is not about them, they weren't really people anyway. [AU]
1. A Story About a House

_A Lonely Story About Nobody_

Chapter 1: A Story About a House

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

"What's your name?" the voice asked her, thick with darkness.

The girl ignored the question and stretched her hand in front of her, flexing her long pale fingers and basking in awe of how the skin felt strained against the bone. She shifted a bit, experimentally putting different amounts of the weight on the shins she was sitting on. Her body felt awkward, lanky limbs moved in deliberate consideration. Then she felt a foreign foot on her shoulder, kicking her back onto the wall with a thud.

"I asked you what your name is," the voice said low like a threat which made her look up. It belonged to a boy around her age, though that was mostly a guess, he wore no face. There was nothing where his eyes and lips and nose should be, it was just smooth as a mirror but reflected nothing. Her eyes went lower and saw armor that looked as if it were made of muscle and twine, winding up his body black and red.

The girl said the first thing that came to her mind. "Kairi."

There was a moment of silence, then he laughed cruelly, a sad sort of hysterical laugh a child made when pouring salt on slugs. He bent down, hands on knees, so he's right in front of her- when she exhaled, it brushed against his face where his nose would be.

"That's no good, doll," he replied in a sing song voice, "I know you're new so I'll give you a piece of advice, if you use a borrowed name, you'll lose yourself."

She tilted her head in confusion, she didn't understand. That only seemed to amuse him more and his hand reached her cheek and traced down to her chin. It felt like dark lapping at her skin.

"Then… my name is Naminé." She liked the sound of it; the name flowed well on her pink tongue.

"Sounds a bit pretentious to me," he said withdrawing his hand. Then he stood up and stretched, still towering over her scrawny body as he arched like a feline.

"Welcome home, doll," he said sardonically. His hand casually waved around the room; it was dark, darker than him, filled with shadows even if there wasn't a bit of light to cast them. The entire room looked hollow and unfinished, made of damp wood, with no furniture but a single chair facing the wall and a silver haired boy slumped in it. His body dangled like a puppet with its strings cut off.

"What's wrong with him?" Naminé asked, the boy moved his mouth but no sound came out.

"Him?" his voice sounded like it was smiling, "That's what happens when you don't get your own name. He's not even a person; he's barely an empty replica now."

Naminé's mouth turned to a small o and she slowly approached the replica boy, his dull aqua eyes were flickering on different parts of the wall, even though it was all the same.

"Hello," she said, "my name is Naminé."

The no faced boy jumped to her side with a mocking enthusiasm, "That'll do it. Now he's all better, thanks doll. You saved him."

The silver haired boy didn't react. The no faced boy sniggered.

"He's as fun of a conversational partner as you are," he pinched the side of the blank boy's cheek like it was a child, roughly jerking his head around. "But as fun as this is, I got places to be. Things to break."

"Can I come too?" Naminé had only really been aware for a few minutes, but she was already tired of the four walls of nothing, she wanted to see the world she was born in.

He laughed. "What for, the outside's got nothing for you."

"Okay," Naminé had no reason not to question him anyway. After a second of thinking she asked, "What's your name?"

"Oh-ho. Aren't you a curious doll?" he patted her head like she was a pet, but she felt no affection in his cold hands, "I'm Vanitas. It won't be hard to remember, you only know one other person and he doesn't have a name." He looked back at the blank aqua eyes, "Well, not really a person. More of a nothing really. You two have a lot in common, enjoy the company."

He nonchalantly saluted her as he walked through the door.

-x-

For the first few days, she simply accepted Vanitas explanation that there nothing out there for her. She stood, sat, slept, and walked in circles in the small room, leaving trails on the floor's dust. If she was feeling ambitious, she would sit and try to talk to the replica of a boy, trying to make him reply, or blink, or anything. But most of her time was spent staring out the sole window in the house and watching the sun rise and fall, rise and fall.

More than watching the sun, she loved staring at what the sun shined on; green rolling farm landscape, flat and expanding out until it touched the sky. Sometimes she saw blurs moving in the distance as they worked on the land, as small as ants. She had a favorite blur, every morning it walked down the road, stopped, and stared at the house for a good while before continuing onward.

She wondered if this blur could see her. Did she look like an ant too? The questions made her desire to leave the house stronger, until the day she could no longer accept Vanitas explanation.

Naminé leaned her head on the glass, watching as the fog from her mouth grew on the slick surface. She enjoyed doing that, putting her mark on things, it reminded her that no matter what Vanitas said (whenever he's home at least) that she's real. She can affect things too.

She placed her finger on the plane's cloud, cold finger on cold glass, and began to trace words.

"Na… m…i… ne."

She drew an accent at the end because it looked right.

A hand from the other side slammed into the window, she jumped in shock, and the vibrations caused her to jerk her head away.

She looked past the splayed midnight fingers, up the viney arm, to Vanitas. The faceless boy lifted his hand off the glass and attempted to read what she wrote. Then his shoulders bounce, like he was laughing.

Naminé quickly smudged the name out of the fog.

"Welcome home," she told him when he walked through the door, she always said that because it seemed appropriate. She didn't know if it bothered him, but everytime she said it he would stop and turn his head towards her but say nothing. Instead Vanitas pushed the silver haired boy off of the chair and let him tumble on the floor bonelessly.

Vanitas dragged the chair to the window, pivoting it backwards and sat down, his arms folded over the top of the back. "They say if you stare at the sun too long you'll go blind." He moved his fingers to her eyes like he was going to scoop them out.

Naminé blinked rapidly. "I'm not scared of the sun."

"Makes sense. Can't be afraid of what you are ignorant of."

"I don't have to be. Ignorant I mean."

Vanitas left the chair and hopped onto the ledge of the window sill like a cat, expertly moving between her and the window. Naminé eyed his feet, half off the edge and waiting patiently for him to fall.

"Why are you taking the long way around to get to a point? Say it clearer, I don't speak meek and passive."

"I want to go outside."

Vanitas leaned his body on the window and shrugged lazily, "You don't need my permission, doll."

Naminé's blue eyes scanned him cautiously; she didn't think he would allow her.

"Thought I was going to force you to stay?" he asked reading her mind, "I could if you want. Tie you to the chair next to mister sunshine over there if that's what you think of me." He feigned a sigh of hurt, "But that's just not me. I'm not interested in being your keeper, so do what you want. Besides, I think it will be hilarious."

When she got up and he made no move to stop her, the new sense of freedom already swelled in her. The door felt heavy as she pushed it, the rough wood was daunting at the touch of her hands. It swung stiffly on its hinges, squeaking open. Naminé peeked behind to see Vanitas waving mockingly at her.

"Be careful. You're a small, small nothing in a big world. Try not to get too lost."

The door closed behind her with a weighty thud.

The sun was hotter than Naminé thought it would be, it almost felt sickly as it fell on her skin and she could taste the humidity in the air. Her first thought was to immediately run back into the house and wrap herself in familiar darkness. But she didn't think she wanted to confront Vanitas again and prove once and for all he was right.

And he was right, probably. Maybe. She certainly felt small when she was actually looking up into the sky, without any glass between her and oblivion. She didn't even know where to start. She was neither brave nor confident, and curiosity only took her so far.

But she felt if she went back and gave Vanitas this, she'd always be under him, and she didn't particularly want that. His mind moved in mysterious ways, and Naminé was scared she'd be swept up in his plans. Whatever they were.

She took a few steps forward, and felt considerably more self-assured, it wasn't so hard. She liked the sounds of her footsteps crunching in uncut summer grass, mixing with the calls of cicadas. She stomped a little harder to see the impressions of her bare feet as the green tickled her.

She went on like that for awhile, until the house was just a dark smudge in a colorful field, and her feet began to smart. Once she reached an old dirt road she tried tiptoeing the rest of the way, lightly walking on the pads of her feet and trying to avoid the small rocks, but it still hurt.

A middle aged man walked past her, a farming hoe slung over his shoulder and clothes stained with soil. Naminé's gaze drifted to his feet. Shoes.

That's right, she needed shoes.

"E-excuse me sir, could you show me where I can find some of those," she squeaked, pointing at the man's worn shoes. He ignored her, trudging along tiredly, sweating in the full might of midday.

She tried a few other times, with a few other people until she realized that they couldn't see her. She was invisible. The revelation came without any degree of shock or profound epiphany, it made an odd sort of sense because she wasn't quite sure she really was like them. She must have been an other.

She was unseen, unjudged, and she didn't know if that worried or comforted her.

The dirt turned to gravel and the road was harder on her poor feet, small loose rocks dug into her soft skin, but she was determined to keep walking. She looked through the glossy store windows, into colorful rows of assorted goods. Each store had something different, but they all were fascinating to stare at, vibrant colors and textures placed in crowded rows, hanging off shelves, and sometimes piled in containers.

Her eyes flickered to her transparent reflection; she wasn't as colorful, she decided. Her skin was milky pale, and even though her hair was blond and her eyes were blue- those were washed out, a half a breath to turning white as well. Even her plain dress was bleached white. It was boring so she continued to look through her reflection into the store.

She wanted to go into each of the stores but she felt too shy, like she was crossing something that she shouldn't. She reminded herself that she was invisible, but that didn't help much. So she was quite content with just soaking up the sights, a small upward tugging at her lips at each new discovery.

Oh, she was smiling.

She touched the edge of her own mouth, her hand moving delicately in the reflection. That was new. She quite liked it, it made her face look brighter.

She was making faces in the window when a blur from inside the store caused her attention to snap upward. She knew that blur anywhere, and her previous reservations flew from her mind. When she opened the store door, a small tingling of bells caused the store keeper to raise his head, but he saw no one. The blond haired man stared past her, puzzled, before thinking nothing of it and went back to a book in his hand. He grumbled something about the wind before puffing on a cigar.

Naminé continued onward to the blur, who now was in the shape of a boy her age. If she were blank, this was the most colorful person she had ever seen. He had tanned skin, light brown hair like soft earth, and blue eyes like a clear sky. Even his clothes were bright apple red, it stood out even in such a colorful building.

He was eagerly investigating at the shelves, past the toys and models, his eyes taking in the sights like she did- as if he never seen it before. But the way he moved from shelf from shelf told her that he frequented here, sunshine yellow shoes walking with conviction. Naminé followed him, intrigued, nimbly ghosting his steps. He burned with energy she had never felt before.

He pulled a pen and paper from the shelves; Naminé peered over his shoulder, the pen was simple black but the stationary was pink and decorated with spring flowers. Nothing she thought a boy would pick, she could see a tinge of red grow on his cheeks when he looked at the paper his hands. Then before he could change his mind, he ran past the counter, dropping tinkling munny on the counter and rushed out the door.

Naminé jogged after him, the breeze floating her soft hair. They wandered past the buildings to a grove of trees. It was odd to see the trees like a miniature forest, their tallness was a contrast to the flat planes surrounding them. The trunks were all different shades of brown, some ashy black, some light brown, and all different heights and weights, none two looked the same. Naminé wondered if people just planted whatever they pleased, whenever they pleased.

The brown haired boy sat on a stump in a small clearing, the only patch of sun coming down through the impenetrable shade of the trees. Naminé thought it made him look even more spectacular, and she nervously edged over to observe him. He was writing something on the paper, eyes furrowed in concentration. He'd scribble something, then sighed, and put his pen down.

Naminé climbed on the stump beside him and peeked at the paper, but nothing was written in it, it was just inkblots. The boy blinked, and then turned his head toward hers.

"You okay?" he asked.

Naminé squeaked and fell off the stump gracelessly on her back. She heard him laugh and her face became uncomfortably warm.

"Sorry, sorry," the boy apologized upside down, Naminé rolled from her back to her knees. "It was your fault though; you shouldn't read over people's shoulders."

"I didn't mean- I'm sorry," she stammered, the warm turning hot. And it was worse than the pressing hot beating down from the sun. Wait. "You can see me?"

"What do you mean, you're right there." He must have noticed how nervous she was because his eyes looked up as he scratched his hair in thought. "Let's start over again. Hey, what's your name?"

"N-Naminé."

"My name is Sora." His hand reached for hers in greeting. When they touched, she could feel the callouses, the strength of his grip, and the pricking of electricity that must have come from his fingers and spread all over her body.

Naminé was running back now, she could barely feel the dull ache of her feet when all she could think of was the internal roar in her ears. Her face felt like it was on fire, and the hot breeze as she ran past didn't help cool it.

_"My name is Sora,"_ she recalled, his smile revealed perfect teeth. Sora like the sky.

She looked up at the cloudless blue, but after she stumbled a bit over her feet, she decided it was a bad idea and looked forward again. She felt silly running like the darkness was chasing her, all the way back to the monochrome house, which still sat pitifully on the only hill in the entire area.

The door opened with a bang, flooding the room with natural light. Vanitas was leaning into the chair with his feet propped up on the shoulders of the silver haired boy, he glanced at her. He must have been interested in what would make the girl gasp for breath, hands on knees as she struggled to compose herself.

"You look terrible! Your feet are all cut up and bleeding all over the floor. I like it," he said jovially, swinging his legs off the boy and jumping to his feet. "What happened?"

Naminé didn't want to tell him about Sora, she didn't know why. But she had a feeling that Vanitas would try to play with whatever she found, and she felt as if Sora was hers. So instead she asked, "People can't see us?"

Vanitas laughed, "People can't see _you_, because there's nothing of you to look at, doll. Did it really surprise you that much? Don't tell me you thought you were a person, that's just sad. Like a bad punchline to an already unfunny joke."

Vanitas slid an arm around her thin, knobby shoulders, "How many people did you talk to before you realized it doll?"

Naminé didn't answer him, instead she looked at his arms draped around her and then asked, "Why did you ask me for my name if you aren't going to call me by it?"

"Does it bother you?"

"I think so. It's impolite, don't you think? I'm Naminé, I'm not a doll."

"Those things aren't mutually exclusive. You can be both. And really, you haven't really done anything that makes me think you aren't a doll anyway." He placed all his weight on her, making her knees buckle. Naminé frowned at him, she was no doll.

She was more of a person than Vanitas knew, she walked around town, she talked to people (even if they didn't talk to her back), she explored stores. She met a boy named Sora who liked to laugh. Well she assumed that last part, he laughed like he did.

But she wouldn't tell Vanitas that. The empty faced boy slunk back into the chair and put his feet up on the replica again.

"I'm not a doll," she repeated, and then she pushed Vanitas' feet of the boy, "and he's not a piece of furniture."

Vanitas scoffed, "He's not much more, look at him." He dismissively pointed towards the slumped figure, "What inspired this sudden growth of a spine anyway? You ran like back like your life depended on it not too long ago."

He paused, then laughed like it was an inside joke, "Heh, heh, 'your life.' Sorry bad choice of words."

Naminé took the quiet figure by the hand and dragged him to the other corner, her blood from the cuts on her feet smeared on the dark wood. The replica was heavy and made only the slightest inclination of going with her. She looked at him sadly; she may have stood up for it, but there wasn't much there to defend.

She felt guilty for hoping that she would never, ever be like the mute boy. Then she really would be a doll.

* * *

A/N: *shrugs* I don't really know what this is about, I just really wanted to write a story with Vanitas and Namine because I think they would be interesting together. I also threw in Riku Replica because the poor thing needs some love. Hope you enjoyed it.


	2. A Story About a Boy

_A Lonely Story About Nobody_

Chapter 2: A Story About a Boy

There wasn't much to the town of Destiny Plains. It was a sad, tired farming town with sad, tired buildings. The land was so flat that it made Naminé wonder if the rest of the world was just one wide horizontal plane of green. After a few days of exploring, it felt like she had seen everything, and life was on repeat. The stores were scant few, all lined up on the main road, and both the road and stores looked heavily worn. The shops were very old and probably handed down from generation to generation without much change or inspiration.

Besides the humdrum of the quiet town square, the rest of the land alternated between long stretches of unclaimed grass, and rice farms. The ground slumped down to a low plateau that was separated by small dirt trails, ankle-deep water skimmed the dipped surface, which did not do any favors for the humidity in the air.

Naminé thought it was all very, very pretty, but also very, very boring.

While she did like settling down and staring at beautiful days, staring was all she did. She walked the same beaten path for so long her feet didn't bleed anymore. In truth she had hoped to catch sight of Sora, but after that one day she couldn't find him anymore. She tried all the stores, she tried the main road and all the smaller dirt roads it splintered into, she tried the grove of mismatched trees, but he was gone.

She went back into the first store she had seen him in, she did every day. In the back of her mind, she told herself she was being odd, lurking after a stranger she didn't know, but she didn't mind that thought. How was an invisible, white clothed girl already not creepy?

The shop owner was half asleep, he didn't even bother to look up with the door chimed open, his cigarette drooping from his mouth and ash threatened to fall onto his faded blue pants. Naminé walked to the stationary section again, no boy, but lots of paper and pens and-

Blue eyes widened, she had never seen so many colors in one place before. The picture on the box said "paint set" and showed a smiling, handsome boy spreading the colors on a piece of paper with a brush. It looked wonderful, without thinking Naminé grabbed the paint set and hurried through the door, not looking back. She suppressed an excited shiver that slivered down her spine.

She came all the way back to the lonesome house on the hill. Vanitas wasn't there, he rarely was. She had no idea what he was doing, and she never ran into him on her own travels; it made her all the more curious since there was not many places to go in the quiet town. But at the same time she didn't want to ask him, she wouldn't have gotten a straight answer anyway.

"I have something," she told the replica, the only other person in the room. He still didn't have a name, and it was awkward always calling him 'you' but she felt like she didn't have the right to name anyone. But despite that she tried her best to treat him like a person; she thought it was too sad otherwise.

He didn't respond, of course, but she was used to it. She sat in front of him and gave him a soft, understanding smile.

"It was really beautiful outside today. Have you ever been outside?" she said to the silence, "I'll show you, it's a shame if you never see it."

She opened the paint set, dozens of fresh tubes lay in front of her. "Um-" Naminé didn't know what to do next. She opened a tube and the pushed the paint out on the floor, it squirted an emerald green glob with a strange squish. She did the same with the rest of the paint, and when she was finished she stared at them anxiously.

"Well, here goes nothing."

She passed by the paint brush all together and dipped her finger in the emerald green, then made small thin strokes on the wall right in front of the boy.

"The grass goes on forever," she told him, "Like an ocean of green. Well, I haven't seen an ocean before but I think that's what it would look like. It's not quiet this color though, I think there's more…"

She bit her lip recalling the scenery, then dipped her hand in the yellow, mixing the two colors in the edges until she was satisfied. This was exciting; she felt a beat thump rhythmically in her chest like she had been running for days, even though logically she understood that there was nothing really in her chest to beat. She couldn't believe she'd never done this before, it was like she was made to paint.

Next came the sky, this one was harder. The sky changed blue the way people changed moods, she didn't think that just choosing the shade would do it justice. It was a living, breathing soul, more real than both her and the boy sitting behind her combined. She tried the best she could, making it bright and deep, with large rolling clouds, billowing as white as her dress.

_As white as her dress was_, she repeated in her head. The paint was now coated on her dress, along with her hands, and even on her knees and feet. It popped out brighter on her than on the wall, she was a paler canvas after all. She looked back at the boy.

"Do you see it? It's not as pretty as outside but I hope I kind of captured it. It's too bad though, a picture doesn't convey the sound of the outside. One day I hope you get to hear the wind against the leaves, it makes a lovely sound."

The boy said nothing.

She turned back to the wall, and she felt a swell in her body. She had made something with her hands, something that was hers alone, just as much as her name.

She heard the door open behind her, and Vanitas prowled behind her like a predator. Naminé began to wonder why he never walked normally.

"What the hell is this? Did someone murder a rainbow?"

The faceless boy peered over curiously.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the homicidal sentiment, but the mess is obnoxious. Maybe when someone leaves their room dark, they want it dark for a reason."

"I'm drawing the outside."

"It looks like you threw paint on yourself and had a seizure against the wall," Vanitas snorted, "And if you wanted to see the outside, you could go outside."

"He doesn't go outside," she pointed to the replica.

"I see, how thoughtful. And look how happy you've made him!" Vanitas slunk behind the other boy and pulled his mouth out into a painful stretched smile. Naminé went back to painting, she figured reacting would just egg him on.

"When did you have time to see all of this?"

"When you were out," she said, she was adding the tree grove now. She dipped her pinky in the brown and wondered how it would look on the already brown wood of the walls, "I've was looking for someo… looking around." She was always careful what to say around Vanitas. He had a way with using words that confused and sometimes scared her.

"I thought you stopped because you don't track blood on the floors anymore."

"My feet are tougher now, they stopped bleeding from the roads and I don't fall or anything."

"Congratulations on mastering basic motor function." Vanitas lifted the replica's arms from below and made a floppy clapping motion, although it mostly missed its' owns hands, "Can't say the same for this guy."

"The picture is small right now, but it will grow." Naminé said in awe of her own work. She knew it wasn't great, but she couldn't help but feel like she made something special to her. "I'm going to make it bigger. I'm going to see the entire world, and all of the people, until this entire room is filled."

There was a moment of silence until she heard a body thud to the floor, silver hair sprawled around a boy like a broken marionette. Vanitas kicked the wall right next to her hand, and then smeared the wet paint as the foot lagged downward, wiping the colors from the wall.

"That's hilarious dolly," he said without any trace of humor.

"What is?"

"Sitting there in your little dark hole, drawing rainbows, making conversation with puppets, and dreaming happy things. So funny it makes me want to vomit." He wiped his feet on a clean spot on Naminé's dress, like he had stepped in something unpleasant.

"You can come with me if you like," Naminé offered, to which Vanitas paused, then barked out a dry laugh.

"That's tempting but I'll pass. So will you. Let me ask you a question, if I could leave this place, do you think I would have stayed? And most importantly, if someone like me can't leave…

"What makes you think you can?"

Naminé didn't know what to say, she instead she tried to fix Vanitas' blotch. She didn't care what he said or what he did, she had to finish her picture.

-x-

She spent the entire night painting, she didn't think she really needed sleep. The replica and Vanitas never seemed to anyway. But nights on Destiny Plain were beyond dark, they were almost perfect blackness. There was no electricity in their small house, and when she looked through the window, none of the houses in the distance turned theirs on either. Even the stars didn't seem to shine as bright there.

The end result was the picture turning to more of a mess. Naminé considered the manic splatters. It didn't bother her a lick. She got up and stretched, her pale limbs felt strange after stuck in one position for the entire night, now they hung awkwardly, and tingling feelings ran up her legs like white noise. It almost made her feel like her body was alive.

She was out of paint and inspiration, so she turned to the mute replica and told him, "I'll be right back."

When she left the house, she noticed Vanitas slipped out the door behind her. As she made her way down the hill, the second pair of footsteps shadowed her, the footsteps sounded sneaky and light.

"Why are you following me?"

"I value your friendship. Can't we hang out like all the normal kids?"

Naminé huffed and walked a little faster now. But Vanitas had longer legs, and Naminé was no athlete.

"So what are we doing today? Shopping? Making friendship bracelets? Gossiping? We could try braiding hair, but I'm clumsy with my hands. Might accidently rip out your hair or something." He tossed his hands through Naminé's hair, stringy with paint.

Coming their way on the old path was a small, slow moving tractor, being driven by a small, slow moving man, yawning in the daybreak. The family owned machine clunked by, it must have been years old, well used and loved.

"Vanitas?"

"…"

"Vanitas?"

She frowned at his silence.

"Vanitas!"

"Sorry, just wanted to hear you call my name. It gives me butterflies in my stomach. Or was that worms?"

Naminé ignored his taunting, "I only see adults. Where are all the kids our age?"

"I guess they'd be at school. It's almost summer vacation now that I think about it," Vanitas said shrugging and Naminé was surprised at a straight forward answer.

"Or they just all killed themselves in some sort of masochistic ritual of awkward dominance. I think they called it _puberty_."

There it was.

Without warning Vanitas jumped on the small tractor.

"Look no hands," he said amused at himself, then kicked the steering wheel a sharp left, forcing it to tumble into the rice patty. He flipped off laughing like a demon, watching his work clutter out in a mess. Naminé felt sorry for the old red headed farmer, but decided that while Vanitas was distracted by driving random passersbys mad, she could slip by unnoticed.

School. She knew the building somewhere on the edge of town. It was a homely building of faded brick, standing short but wide and proud. When she walked in, she was met with a blast of cool air, it felt welcoming from the sticky heat of the day. She plodded down the glossy floors, clean except the occasional streak of shoes.

She wandered idly by the hallway, it had been fun to look at all the trinkets, nonsense items, and thingamabobers in the stores, but walking down the halls of the highschool felt different. Her eyes glazed over a small trophy box, almost empty except two proud "Second Place Marching Band Regional" trophies, shining gold like a cup made of munny.

Further down was a bright collage of images, they were abstracts of real life, simple shapes amateurly sewn together to make more a complex, fascinating picture. Her eyes lingered on the "Art Class Exhibit" sign in the middle.

She saw posters for students trying to run for something called the student council, declaring their name and faces. Some rooms had posters pasted on their doors, maps, pictures of far away places, numbered charts; she tried to figure out the pattern on the numbered charts but she didn't even know where to begin. It was like each room had a personality of its own.

A shadow flickered in her periphery, but when she looked up she saw nothing. Curious, she walked towards the door where thought she saw it. This door had a small picture on it as well, it was sequence of three images telling a short joke, of a boy and his pet tiger sliding down the snow and philosophizing about life until they ran into snowmen. She giggled at the "Calvin and Hobbes" pictures, out of all the posters on the door she enjoyed this one the most, and peered in the door hoping to find whoever drew it.

This room was filled with boys and girls her age, all facing one adult who paced around the front and wrote gibberish on a green wall. Naminé snuck in as quietly as she could, but when the door opened the adult's attention went towards her, and after a minute of scrutiny she continued on.

Naminé mimicked the other students, sliding into an empty desk and chair, her hands neatly folded in front of her. A smile peaked in her mouth as she pretended to be like the other living, breathing students, dully writing something in notebooks.

Everyone around her, she noticed, looked either frustrated or bored. They slunk down in their chairs, tapping their pencils on the desk in uneven rhythms, with their eyes glazed over. Others ignored the writing on the board and instead whispered to those next to them. Almost none of them looked as if they wanted to be there.

She wondered if it made her weird that she wanted to.

Out of all the places she visited in the town, it was this one that felt most alive. Every hallway had a reminder of someone doing something. Everyone room was a buzz of people interacting, mostly like friends, but some like enemies and even some lovers. She wanted that. She wanted to sit and listen to people teach her. She wanted to understand all the gibberish that looked like a secret code. She wanted to be bored, and then lean to her neighbor and doodle on their notebook. She wanted to learn, and be seen, and be hated and be loved.

She wanted to live too.

"Naminé?"

Her pale blond hair whipped with the turn of her head.

"Sora?" The young boy looked at her incredulously, then his eyes blue moved up and down, soaking up her image. Naminé felt a familiar heat in her face, she must have looked odd. She was shoeless, in the same dress she saw him in before, but this time stained with paint.

If he thought this was weird, he shook it off with a shrug and an easy smile.

"I didn't know you were in this class."

"Um. Not really, it's complicated."

Another dark voice joined in, "Yeah, really complicated. She's in a weird living situation if you can believe it."

If Naminé wasn't always swan pale, she was sure she would have gone even whiter. Vanitas had caught up to her, and now leaned on Sora's back to back, causing him to push the desk forward.

"Vanitas you jerk," Sora hissed, "You're going to get us in trouble."

"Nah, I'll be fine. I always manage to slip under the radar. It's like I'm invisible or something."

Naminé looked from Sora, to Vanitas, to Sora again. She didn't think she liked the idea of them being acquainted, it made the hairs on her neck rise. It was even odder that Sora didn't react to Vanitas's facelessness, and she wondered what they looked like to him. Maybe people couldn't really comprehend them, like looking through dirt stained, foggy window.

"How do you know Naminé?" Sora asked, reflecting the question in her mind.

"Her?" he said in a bored drawl, draping his arm around Sora's neck, "She's my whore."

Sora choked on air.

"I'll let you borrow her if you want, I'll even pay for it. Isn't she your type? The face I mean, looks just like-"

"Vanitas has to pay for my company otherwise he'll always be alone." Naminé wasn't sure what compelled her to say that, but it was probably because Sora looked increasingly panicked as Vanitas began to poke and prod his comfort zone. She didn't want him to be sucked in Vanitas' pace. The red from Sora's face lessened and he snickered.

Vanitas straightened his back, going to his full height and faced (faceless) her, he probably wasn't expecting that comment. Naminé wasn't either. She stared back, surprised at her own boldness as Vanitas quietly analyzed her.

Then he let out a laugh, and Naminé felt the tension ease out of her shoulders. He didn't even bother with a sarcastic retort, instead he pushed off Sora's back and began to creep around the corners of the room. He was sneaking like a thief, but Naminé knew it was just for Sora's benefit, no one else could see him anyway.

Vanitas slipped behind the teacher, and Sora was watching with baited breath, leaning so forward Naminé thought he'd fall off the edge of his seat. He didn't even notice the rest of the class wasn't reacting. Vanitas grabbed the teacher's spring jacket and wrapped it around him dramatically. Sora stifled a childish giggle.

A second later a shrill sound rang filled the rooms and the hallways, making Naminé jump out of her stiff plastic seat. Vanitas slipped through the door, the light jacket fluttering behind him. The crowd around began to stir, like they were finally jolted fully awake.

"Wait!" the adult up front barked, looking around frantically. "Which one of you stole my jacket? No one leaves until whoever stole it comes forward."

Naminé and Sora exchanged looks, Sora looked a little like a fish gaping, unsure of whether to tell on Vanitas or keep quiet for a friend.

"C'mon Ms. Kisaragi. We're going to get in trouble if we are late to our next class."

"All of you are going to be in serious trouble _right now_ unless you guys produce my jacket."

Sora groaned, hitting his head on the desk. He turned to his other desk neighbor.

"This sucks, right Riku?"

The boy named Riku must have ignored him because Sora let out a long suffering sigh, not looking at all surprised at the slight. Naminé gasped when she got a better look at Sora's friend(enemy?). He looked exactly like the boy at home.

The same sharp features, thin lips, narrow aqua eyes, even down the hair that brushed long and silver against his lashes. He also had a glazed look about him, but unlike the other, there was still life in his eyes. This Riku must be who the boy at home was a replica of.

"Ri…ku."

Riku's head snapped to her, "What?"

_Oh_, he could see her too. Naminé's eyes were like a deer caught in a headlight. Real Riku was a lot more intimidating than the lifeless Replica Riku, Naminé felt like shrinking from his cutting glare, she hadn't realized how _sharp_ his eyes were. He looked up and down at her like he was waiting for her to say something more, but when she said nothing he simply disregarded it, no longer interested.

Sora gave her an apologetic smile, "Sorry. He's not really talkative, he's going through some stuff."

"O-okay."

Ms. Kisaragi was in a rage now, slamming her fist on the board and almost shouting at the kids. Naminé shrunk back even though she couldn't be seen. She wanted to talk to Sora more, but she wasn't sure she could get her voice loud enough to overshadow the noise.

Before she could say anything, in the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow like the one she spotted before. When she went to look at it, it ran from view. Sora had also been staring at it like he was in a trance. Naminé tried to follow it, leaving behind Sora who was desperately whispering for her not to get in trouble. She stopped to smile sadly at him. She wasn't going to get in trouble, she didn't exist in their world to get in trouble.

When she slipped through the door, she only saw Vanitas still wearing the teacher's jacket, surrounded by a sea of other children. The shadows must have been casted by Vanitas or them, but in the back of her mind she knew none of their shadows had been as dark and definable, and Vanitas casted no shadow.

"You should give back the jacket," she said.

Vanitas shrugged and then walked away, Naminé had a sinking feeling that he had done it on purpose to keep Sora there. She followed him, he had been standing outside the door after all. He was waiting for her.

Vanitas had habit of causing chaos no matter where he went. In Naminé's eyes, though it was all very petty. He tripped people, he broke windows, he stole small items. It wasn't anything to be in awe of, but each time he did it, he laughed like he just told the funniest joke.

For some reason, watching Vanitas go on his way causing mischief didn't scare her away, it made him look smaller. Or simpler.

Naminé followed him all the way past town, past the small tree grove, to the river that cut through the land. It wasn't a particularly large river, but it was an important one to the farm lands. Naminé stopped by the bank as Vanitas marched on.

She dipped her toe into the water, feeling cold water flow tickle her skin and flow past her. She tentatively stepped into the edge of the water. She shivered at the chill and brought her foot back up, the paint had washed away. So she stepped back in, and braced herself as she put the other foot in, letting the water push against her ankles and clean the trickling color off of her in swirls.

Naminé began to wash her hands and knees, scrubbing herself clean. Her hands grabbed the hem of her little white dress, and she pulled it over her head, the sweat clung onto the fabric as she peeled it off her clammy skin.

"What are you doing?" Vanitas said warily, he had stopped walking by and was now watching Naminé in a guarded pose.

"Cleaning," Naminé bent her knees and scrunched her dress in the torrents, she had no idea if she was doing it right. She could feel Vanitas stare at her, the combination of his gaze and the cold water splashing against her felt odd.

"Vanitas, why could Riku and Sora see us?"

"Because they are our true loves, and true love conquers all," he said dryly.

"Are we ghosts?"

"There's no such thing as ghosts, doll."

"Why don't you believe in ghosts? I mean, there's us."

"Ghosts are supposed to be spirits after people die, but when people die they are gone, there's nothing left of them. People pretend they're there for some self-comforting bullshit so they can feel like they are connected to each other. It's a way of not moving on."

Naminé didn't see the difference between ghosts and them though. How could she skeptical about things that weren't supposed to exist, when she practically didn't exist herself.

She lifted her dress to the light, stretching it out and seeing the brightness of the sun light up the fabric, still plenty of stains.

"Vanitas, what do you do when you leave by yourself?"

"Why do you keep asking all the wrong questions?"

"What's the right question, then?"

"Well, certainly not that one."

Naminé dropped her dress back in the water, watching the wet clearness run over the white. She saw her reflection in the water, her appearance wavy and distorted. Deeper into the river, she saw the reflection of the sun.

Wait. That was no reflection.

It was shimmering not at the surface but underneath, warm and bright yellow light. She remembered what Vanitas told her before, that looking into the sun for too long would make her go blind. She got the same feeling from the glimmers under the river.

Naminé stood up and tried to walk towards it, cold water splashed to her thighs as she went deeper and deeper in staggered strides, until she felt darkness wrap around the bareness of her hips and roughly haul her from her destination.

"You're going to be swept off your feet if you keep walking," Vanitas continued her to pull her away from the light.

Naminé motioned towards the sun-water, "What is that?"

Vanitas looked at the brightness, "It's piss. People do their business in rivers, and now it's literally a stream of piss."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh, school must be doing wonders for you because you're getting smarter. Good for you."

"Is that the sun?"

"How is that even possible? I think people call it," he paused considering his next words, "the lifestream."

"Lifestream," Naminé muttered. She tested the sound of it and decided she liked it, "Is this where dead people go?"

"You got it."

"So this is where life ends?"

"And where it begins. From piss water."

Vanitas still had his arm around her hips; she leaned on his cold chest and her skin felt the thin twists of the clothes, dress still clutched in her hand. He didn't push her away.

"Vanitas, if living things come from the lifestream, then where do we come from?"

His arm slipped from her and she looked back at him as he started to laugh, the same laugh he made when he was causing trouble. He put the teacher's coat around her shoulders, covering her exposed, pale body.

"You're finally asking the right questions. You are getting smarter."

But he didn't give her an answer.

-x-

Normally, you can't get me to shut up but I don't have much to say about this. Even though it probably needs a lot of explaining. The tone for a lot of this was originally inspired by the anime Mushishi, although it's not as brilliant or calm as the show so it morphed into something else. If you ever want to watch something that's equal parts haunting and poetic, that would be it. I was listening to Oskar Schuster's Sneeuwland for a lot of it.

Thanks for all who reviewed and followed!

**Sin's Punishment: **Yeah, it was suppose to be surreal and melancholic, but ended up odd. I don't particularly mind because it's a fun write. Mostly in part for Vanitas, when you get a character as over the top as he is, he pretty much makes the scene himself. I bounced back and forth with how much of a sociopath I wanted to write him as, he's best a murderous narcissistic psycho in the games, but for the story I made him more of a prankster with a disregard of the people around him. Thank you for the review, and pointing out the typos :

**E- **Thnks for the review. I made this fic mostly because I think Namine and Vanitas would be an interesting dynamic. Considering Vanitas need to prod and break people, and Namine's need to save them and natural empathy, watching them play off each other and the people around them was pretty much the basis of this fic.


	3. A Story About a Picture

_A Lonely Story About Nobody_

Chapter 3: A Story About a Picture

Naminé didn't know how to paint the lifestream. She would use a clearer, whiter blue compared to the sky for the river itself, she would paint white swirling lines to represent the motion of the water, her favorite part. But for the lifestream itself, painting it just yellow seemed like an injustice.

_How do you draw light_? Naminé wondered, looking at her collection of colors. She supposed you don't, you paint how the things around it are affected by light. Her eyes trailed over the picture on her house wall. It was getting bigger, her world was expanding. But it still didn't cover half the wall, and she was too short to paint to the ceiling. It wouldn't matter anyway because she was running out of paint.

"What do you think? Do you like the outside?" she asked Riku's replica. No response.

"I think you would love school, Riku."

Suddenly he stirred, blinking his pointed eyes much to Naminé's amazement. He turned to her in expectance, Naminé's mind felt stuck, unsure of what to do. This was the first time she saw him react to… anything. So she said the first thing that popped in her head.

"Riku," she repeated.

It was like she breathed life into him, a glow of recognition spread across his body, his chest slowly filled with air as he took a breath, his eyes flickered and his mouth opened like he was going to say something. Naminé grabbed his hands and put them on her lap, staring straight into his eyes, encouraging him to speak. She felt fingers twitch.

The door slammed open, "Honey I'm home." Vanitas saw the two of them staring at each other.

"Doll, it's not nice to take advantage of the lifeless."

That spark was gone now, the replica was as empty as ever. Naminé squeezed his hand again, but he returned nothing. Even the warmth of his skin was gone. She sighed, resting her arms on her knees, considering her painting again. She looked down at her paints and ashen blond hair swayed in front her eyes.

_How do you paint light?_

Her eyes rose, silently criticizing every mistake she made.

_How do you wake up a replica?_

Vanitas stomped next to her, right on top of her paint, the neat piles squished under shoes with an unpleasant squeak.

"What am I doing here?" she asked.

"Painting," Vanitas deadpanned. She didn't mean the question like that, but she assumed Vanitas understood what she really meant anyway. She gently grabbed Vanitas' ankle and lifted it.

"You have my blue," she said running her finger against his sole, and then began to work on the sky again.

"So you're the type of girl who kisses catatonic boys and scrapes at the bottom of people's shoes, eh?"

"I wasn't kissing him. I was talking to him."

"That's even sadder."

Naminé surprised herself by giggling.

"It is. But I think I can get through to him."

"You're that lonely? Are you spurring my good company?" he asked mockingly before he started scraping the blue paint from his shoes on the painted grass. Naminé was use to him ruining the picture though, so she didn't even flinch.

"I have Sora to talk to."

Vanitas stopped. She could hear the scraping of her fingernail against wood.

"That must be as fun as watching paint dry."

Naminé liked watching her paintings dry though. As much as she enjoyed making the small individual strokes, she liked appreciating the larger picture.

"What do you and Sora even have to talk about?"

-x-

Sora scratched his head and repeated her question, "Why am I always here? What makes you think I'm always here?"

Naminé sat on the stump across from Sora, she could hear the tops of the trees rustle against the wind.

"You came to the tree grove last time too."

"Oh yeah," Sora grinned sheepishly. He bent over, staring past his shoes to the dirt, almost toppling over. "This place is sort of an urban legend for kids, you know? You're supposed to whisper a secret into a tree seed, and then plant it. And it grows and it helps you or something... I'm not really explaining it right. But it's a tradition to have your own secret tree."

"Do you have one?"

Sora looked around halfheartedly, "Yeah somewhere. Me, Riku- the boy you met before- and.. someone else, we did it together. I think everyone in this town has one. So it's my secret place, but it's sort of everyone's secret place. So I come here for, uh, how do you say it, when you want to do something but you need help doing it…"

"Inspiration?" Naminé offered.

"Yeah that's the word. I'm trying to write this letter to someone, but I'm no good at it. Everytime I try to say something I can't find the right way to say it, and instead I end up saying a whole bunch of stupid things and embarrass myself."

Weird. "You don't look like the kind of person who writes letters."

Sora made a face, "What are you trying to say?"

Naminé flushed, "I'm not trying to insult you are anything. But you seem a lot more energetic and straight forward. If you wanted to say something, I'd think you would just come out and say it to their face."

"That sounds like me," Sora laughed. It was bright and cheerful and full of life, the affection of it all pervaded the air around them, and made Naminé's stomach and face warm. In the back of Naminé's mind, she couldn't help but draw comparisons to Vanitas' laugh, which was always laced with spite and made her shiver. It was the difference between a boy who laughed with people, and a boy who laughed at people.

"So why don't you say it instead?"

"I can't. Even if I wanted to, she's gone. She died... awhile ago." Sora's voice went watery, like a reflection in the running river.

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. She'd hate that." Sora patted her head, and gave her a smile that was meant to chase her worries away, then turned back to his letter. He scratched his nose with the end of his pencil in concentration.

"Did you love her?" she asked.

The paper ripped. Sora turned to her, his face glowing like there were hot coals under his skin and his eyes widened, "W-wha. I mean, huh? Look at my letter, I'm so clumsy."

She watched as he tried to smooth out his letter, only to drop the pen, continuing to ramble and avoid Naminé's question and her eyes. She saw the flustered Sora and she knew what his secret was.

She felt her smile fade just a little.

-x-

"Welcome home, doll," Vanitas was lying on the floor with his hands under his head.

"Ah. You're here too."

"Don't sound so excited. I'm the most interesting person you know."

Naminé walked past Vanitas to the silver haired boy leaning on the wall for support, "Look Riku, it's candy."

The replica stirred at his name, and she took out a round piece of toffee and placed it in his mouth. At first she was scared he would blank out again, but instead he moved it around his mouth experimentally.

"It's salt water toffee," she said, eyes shining like she was telling a secret, "you can move it around your tongue and it almost like it's a different taste."

Riku's expression changed ever so slightly.

"Do you like it?"

He still hadn't said anything yet, but she felt she was almost there.

"Still trying? You know, they say the definition of insanity is to repeat something over and over and expect different results," Vanitas said before getting up and plopping down next to her. He put his finger to her head and pushed it. "You're losing it."

"I'm not doing the same thing. I gave him candy this time."

Vanitas pressed harder, making her wince at the pressure, "Nah, it's definitely the same thing. You can dress a puppet in all the different clothes you want, but it's never going to be a real boy."

"You've never tried."

He was grabbing the side of her head now, pushing it farther to the side. "I don't waste candy on something that doesn't even need to eat."

"Waste? Does that mean you want one?" she asked offering the bag to him.

He laughed at her.

"I'll have to pass. Don't even have a mouth, you know."

She was going to tip over by now, much to Vanitas' amusement.

"Does this hurt?"

"Of course it does," Naminé said as the palm of his hand squished her cheeks to her lips.

"Then you know you could move from this spot," he said pushing again, his hand imprinting on her pale cheeks.

Or…

Naminé turned her face quickly away, the pressure on her face slipped and with nothing to push back, Vanitas tumbled between her and the replica.

"I was here first," she simply said, looking down at his sprawled form.

Vanitas rolled on his back, laughing.

"Your spine grows stronger everyday," he told her. "Makes me want to crush it even more."

Naminé popped a smooth pink orb in her mouth and tasted strawberries. She wondered if they even had bones to begin with.

-x-

Sora was still trying to write his letter, but not a single word was written, just more blobs of ink from prolonged indecisive contact with a bleeding pen.

A shadow flickered again, from next to the shade of the trees. It didn't move to the rhythm of the wind, as if it were free. But each time Naminé tried to get a better look, it disappeared like water through her fingertips.

Sora was looking that way too, his eyes squinted in frustration. He ran a hand through his brown spikes in a defeated fashion and groaned.

"Ugh this is the worst." He rolled onto his back, his hands touched the ground by his head, and he launched himself in an arc, straight to his feet. "I need to take a walk or something. Let's go Naminé."

"What's her name, the girl you are writing too?" Naminé asked as she walked behind Sora by the bank of the river. She could hear the rush of the water as is glided through the earth, but even more overpowering was the sound of the lifestream. It was like a deep rumbling from inside the world, slowly shifting the earth around it.

It was soothing.

She had almost forgotten she asked a question until Sora stopped suddenly and she accidentally ran into his back.

"Kairi."

The stifled rolling of the lifestream grew louder and Naminé's head swam. _Kairi, Kairi_. She thought she was Kairi once; something nauseous made her way through her body, pumping through it as sure as blood through veins.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Kairi is a beautiful name, she must have been a beautiful person."

Sora sputtered, "Uh, she was great. Yeah. Man you would have loved her. I mean, really liked her. Not love."

Sora began to fidget, and Naminé pushed down a feeling she didn't find pleasant.

"What was she like?"

Sora's face went gentle, he turned around to face her and began to walk backwards, "Kairi lived a mile a minute. She played every sport even though she kind of sucked at it. Tried every musical instrument but she couldn't hold a beat. She ate every single kind of food that she could, even ones that looked totally gross. And if she failed she laughed even harder."

Naminé tried to picture Kairi in her head, but in all honestly, she sounded like a girl version of Sora.

Sora laughed bashfully at that, "No. She was different. She liked to think that everything had meaning, I sort of just barreled on through. At the end of the day she would sit and think about what happened, and then tell us what she got out of it. I'm surprised she even had a secret to whisper in the tree grove, she told us everything."

"Us?"

"Me and Riku. The three of us were always together. You know like and arm and a leg… and a 'nother arm I guess," something sad flashed on his face, "But after she was gone it all fell apart. I couldn't stop us from changing and now there's nothing left."

The river stopped at a dam, the flowing stilled and it pooled listlessly around the structure. Naminé could see the buildup of the lifestream, glowing so intensely under the surface she was afraid it would explode over, drowning the town. What would even happen if liquidized life flooded them?

"Naminé, do you believe in ghosts?" Sora whispered.

"Why do you ask?" Naminé watched as the lifestream's light reflected on Sora's skin, it made him look like he was glowing unnaturally brilliant.

"Sometimes I think I see Kairi. It's not her, it's a bit different, like she isn't really there," then he hastily added, "I know she isn't there because she's dead." He croaked at the word dead.

Naminé looked at the mass of pure energy smoldering next to her, "I think when someone dies, they die. Their soul turns into something else and they can't come back."

"What makes you think that?"

"Vanitas said it to me once," then she realized how silly she must have sounded for taking Vanitas's word at anything.

An uncharacteristic scowl spread against his face, "Vanitas. I have no idea what he's thinking. Honestly, I'm kind of scared of him."

"You shouldn't be, it gives him more influence if you are. He lies all the time, but I don't think he was lying then."

"Oh," Sora's eyes turned tired, "I guess I'm just crazy then."

Naminé spied the shadow again, edging towards them, then dashing away as soon as it caught her eye. Sora was looking in that direction too.

"I don't think you are seeing things though," Naminé said.

"Well, if she's not a ghost but I'm still seeing her, what can it be then?" he asked.

Good question. She wondered the same thing about herself.

-x-

Riku's replica was becoming more responsive, but only sporadically. He wouldn't do things on his own, but sometimes he would follow her around. She hadn't realized how _tall_ he was; the replica and Riku himself probably, was towering at his full height.

It made his already intimidating features even more impressive, and it was probably funny to see this large, broad shouldered boy trail after a scrawny, frail looking girl. Vanitas seemed amused enough. She had hoped he would be impressed by the progress the replica made, but it just made him look down on him more.

Riku Replica wouldn't come out with her to the outside, but he'd wait by the door.

"Like a retarded puppy," he said once laughing unkindly, then he stuck out a leg and tripped him. The tall boy fell heavily, landing painfully solid on the floor. Vanitas continued laughing all the way out of the door.

She picked up the replica from underneath the arms as best she could, but he was heavy. The fall must have reset his mind, because he had the dull expression on his face again.

"You know Riku, he always tries to scare us, but when he does that it's more like he acts like a little kid," she mumbled and she wiped away the dirt from his face. She smoothed out his silver hair, patting gently on top of his head like Sora did to her, she liked the way it made her feel. Like even if she was young and small, someone was looking out for her, the kind of feeling when someone left a light on for them in the dark.

She continued to paint for the rest of the evening, occasionally checking up on the replica, but he was still staring emptily in front of him. Naminé tried talking to him, holding his hand, saying his name, but today she couldn't get him to respond. She hoped that he hadn't slipped down a hole in his mind so deep he couldn't get out.

She took out a piece of toffee and offered it to his thin lips. "Your favorite."

Not even a twitch, his face was static. Naminé's face fell and she reluctantly popped it in her mouth, the sweet and salt settling in her senses.

"You broke Riku," she told Vanitas, not bothering to look at him as she heard his footsteps. They were light, almost as if he had been skipping. Naminé thought that was odd, she lolled the hard candy to the other side of her mouth.

"Oh no, I broke the damaged goods."

Naminé frowned and turned to him, "He was almo-"

What was she going to say? The words melted from her as she gaped at Vanitas. Even if night began to blanket around her, she could see bright yellow gleaming from his face.

"You like it?" he said stepping closer, the cold churned in his eyes. Vanitas left faceless only to come back with a face, and he used it to give her a twisted smile, "I got a makeover."

She said nothing as she drank in the odd sight, and she realized it wasn't just any face, he had Sora's face. The same boyish shape, still soft with baby fat, large round eyes and a small nose. The only difference is his eyes were amber and the brown hair was so black it melted in with the night.

"You can't keep your eyes off of me, I think you like it," he was inches from her face, still smirking. "Now I think you were going to give me something…"

His lips quickly covered hers, still agape in shock. Her eyes were still open as he moved his mouth over hers, her blue tracing the contours of what should have been Sora's face, the closeness allowed her to see the freckles of his nose and the pores in the skin of the young teen. It was all his.

When Vanitas pulled back, he had her toffee in his mouth. He grinned like a cat, eyes dancing with malicious mirth. Then his (Sora's) face grimaced in disgust, and he spat the candy out on the dusty floor.

"Ugh. I hate sweets."

* * *

A/N: I find it very hard to balance Vanitas, like is he suppose to be sociopath, malicious, or something akin to a schoolyard bully. I guess that's what Namine is trying to figure out too.

Thanks for all the reviews!:

**Madhatta51 **Oh ty. Watching Vanitas and Namine figure each other out is fun to write. Vanitas is one of those characters, he'd be interesting no matter who you had him playing off as, but it's especially fun with Namine because I'm biased with her. Ha.

The story between Riku, Sora, and Kairi is definitely important to Vanitas and Namine (and Repliku) along with the lifestream. The whole metaphysics/rules of this story is admittedly really wacky and not that sensible, but if there is one series I feel like weird metaphics would work, it's Kingdom Hearts. And yes, very sneaky Vanitas.

AnonGuest: Ty for the review. Vanitas and Namine are in fact, awesomely fun. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4: A Story About a Game

_A Lonely Story About Nobody_

Chapter 4: A Story of a Game

Naminé burst through the class doors, causing the students jump slightly in their seats. Riku and Sora looked at her curiously, surprised by the outburst. She was so frantic she didn't even care if either boy realized no one else could see her, she hurriedly made her way towards Sora until she was an inch away from him, nearly sitting on his desk. Sora looked bewildered and slightly pink but Naminé could see he was mostly the same; a relieved exhale escaped from her pink lips.

He still had his face.

She carefully placed her hands on either side of his face and turned it gently, studying it at different angles with an uncomfortable intensity. It was all the same as Vanitas's now, even down the sparse freckles. She didn't know what that meant.

"Uh, Naminé?" Sora was turning redder every second. She dropped her hands.

"You're still you."

"Um, yeah? Who else would I be?"

"I don't know, that's what scared me." Naminé felt the tension leave her body and her knees bent as she sat on the floor, the strength from her legs escaping her. She kept one hand on his desk for support, her fingers glided on the smooth wood.

Sora peered curiously down at her, then shrugged it off because he was used to her strangeness by now. Behind the legs of the desk, she could see Riku eyeing her with eyebrows furrowed, but he too shrugged it off. It didn't even look like he recognized her. He probably just didn't care enough to remember.

Naminé spent the rest of the day with Sora, checking over her shoulder anytime something caught her eye. She kept thinking Vanitas would appear, grinning like a cat that caught his mouse, but he was never there, just an overactive imagination and occasionally the elusive shadow that sometimes trailed after her. She wondered if he did come, what would he do, and if she could change anything.

Sora hadn't minded her clinging to him at all, even though they usually only were in each other's company for short intervals. In fact he seemed to be starved for the company; he almost always had something to say, and the rare small cracks of time he didn't, he was still full of life. Sometimes he would was hum, or laugh to himself like he just remembered a joke, or he preoccupied himself with twirling his book on the point of his finger, or flicking paper footballs across the room.

Naminé wondered what it would be like to have every moment filled with _something_.

"See ya later Riku!" Sora hollered at the end of the school day, waving his arms furiously in the air. Riku ignored him.

"He doesn't like you?" Naminé asked when Sora lowered his arms in defeat.

"It's more like he doesn't recognize me," a pained smile filled Sora's face.

"I thought you guys were best friends before."

"It's a long story."

When they wandered to town, she saw a number of bodies crowding a small, greying building. The low mummers buzzed in the air like cicadas, too quiet to understand but impossible to ignore. She had never seen so many people in one place outside of the school. Everyone dressed in Sunday best, crossing their arms irritably under a blazing sun, fanning themselves with their hands. It was the first the town looked anything close to alive.

"What's going on there?" she asked Sora.

"Huh?" Sora squinted like he just noticed. "That's town hall. So, something boring probably." He put his hands behind his head cheekily.

When they walked by, she could see one man facing the crowd, standing straight and solemn. He was dressed nicer and cleaner than the rest of the residents, he looked out of place with his upper class stare and his blond hair slicked back professionally.

"When I built that dam, I did it to rejuvenate this dying town. Not for you to use it as a crutch," The man spoke as somber as he looked; it was a deep, commanding voice that spoke in an elegance that was out of place in the blue collar town.

There were angry murmurs and stomping of feet in the crowd.

"Since when was usin' the water to help the farms that have been passed down for generations a "crutch." We like us the way we's are," said an irritated man, he had silver hair and aqua eyes, and looked very familiar. Naminé wondered if he was related to Riku.

"It's a crutch, mayor, because it's helping limp along a farming culture this town can't sustain," the sleek suited man said.

More shouts.

"The hell you want us to do about it now? We got nothin' else, an even if we dids, we don't want to change!"

Naminé was fascinated by the debate, the angry passion and the discourse that seemed to clash with the lazy atmosphere of Destiny Plains, but Sora already looked bored and walked on. Somewhat reluctantly she followed, twisting her head to continue watching as the animated crowd shouted at each other.

"They sure looked angry," she said in awe, "Never seen the town like this."

"Yeah, they usually are just quiet and sleepy. Unless Ansem Wise comes around," Sora said with only half interest, "He used to be the pride and joy of the town, went to some fancy college and became architect that built the dam in the river, he wanted to change something or whatever. But the farmers use it for irrigation and now, so Ansem comes around and talks about destroying it or something. It's really stupid, I dunno."

Naminé smiled, "For someone who doesn't care, you sure know a lot about it."

Sora stopped and waved his arms like he was presenting the road, "It's the small town curse, everyone knows everyone else's business, we've eaten once at everybody's house, been to every store, that sort of thing. And the only thing that gets people angry is water dams. Nothing ever changes and there's no secrets."

"There's the tree grove," Naminé hopped over a pot hole and felt the prickly gravel on the callouses of her feet.

Sora considered that for a second, "Yeah. There's that, but that's about it. Man, I want a bigger world, you know?"

Naminé's eyes lit up, "Really? Me too, I want to walk the world, and who knows, maybe paint it. But I'm stuck here."

"Not forever though," Sora's voice went higher in excitement, talking about the possibilities gave birth to a new energy that swept his arms in exaggerated movements. "One day we'll get out here. We'll go together."

Sora's warmth made Naminé's stomach flutter. Even if she knew it was an empty promise.

"It's been so long since I talked about this," Sora said quieter, both in voice and his entire posture, "back in the day it's all Riku, Kairi, and me talked about. Getting out and changing our lives."

"Then after what happened to Kairi…?" she asked.

"Yeah. I think so, or not. I don't know. Even before that, I think we got scared of the whole idea. We were so happy, we thought if something would change we would lose something." He went quieter and quieter until he was barely a whisper.

"But we changed anyway."

A shadow flickered in the distance.

-x-

Naminé cradled the replica's head in her lap, absentmindedly brushing his silver hair with her hands. At first she thought he was in one of his empty phases, but when she stopped her hand his body would slightly stiffen, missing the contact, and when she continued his body relaxed again under her touch.

She remembered what Vanitas said before, _like a retarded puppy_.

"He still acts like a retarded puppy," Vanitas snorted, standing over her with a box under his arms.

Naminé looked at him from under her lashes, and a knowing smile played on her face.

"What?"

"I knew you would say that," her smile left as she looked back at the replica, who was gazing at her painting. With her free hand, she dipped her hand in the black and began the silhouette of their house.

"Well that's no good," Vanitas said squatting next to her, "I can't think of anything that's worse than that."

"Than what?" she asked, making smooth, long strokes for the roof.

"Being uninteresting. If I'm predictable means I'm being repetitive, and that's not fun." Vanitas gold eyes dulled as he flicked specks of yellow paint at the house. Instead of painting over them, Naminé used them as highlights, like the light bouncing off the edges of the planks.

When Naminé finished, she wiped the wet paint from her fingers on the hem of her white dress.

"Going so soon?" Vanitas asked as Naminé gently propped up the replica on his own, his eyebrows furrowed at the absence, and then resigned into vacancy.

"Yeah, school is almost over," she said.

"Aw, you don't want to see Sora. See I'm more adorable," Vanitas pointed to his identical face.

When Naminé stood up he grabbed her wrist and roughly yanked her down, she crashed on the floor, wincing. Vanitas arms slammed on either side of her head, his face pressed down until they were almost touching, glaring at her. The box he was holding clattered next to him, and then the lips pressed into an easy, sly smile. He used his new found face to blow air on her lips.

"We're playing a game."

Naminé turned her face away from Vanitas to the box, "That one?"

"Oh yeah. That too."

He lifted his body from hers, and opened the thick box, spreading the connected two halves on the floor, and small black and white figurines hidden in the hollow of its insides swarmed the floor, making tinkling sounds as they rolled into each other.

"Chess," she read the words on the side of the box.

"You know how to play?" he asked setting up the checkered board, placing the pieces to their predetermined spaces.

"No." When he finished he slid the box carefully between them. Naminé touched the small white figure with a cross on its head.

"Don't think so doll, what makes you think you get that one? I'm white, you're black," he grinned like he said something funny and rotated the board. "It means I make the first move."

"That's okay," Naminé shrugged, "It doesn't matter who starts right? Just who finishes."

"Heh."

Playing games with Vanitas was a test of patience, he never told her the rules unless she inadvertently broke them. He never informed her how she could move, just how she couldn't. But Naminé realized that if she had nothing else, she had patience. Maybe patience was the only thing she was made of.

He conquered her space with ease, though she thought he was a little too proud of dominating someone who didn't even know how to play. She had lost almost half her pieces when, finally, took one of his. She crossed the board diagonally and after a moment's pause, took one of his smallest pieces. Vanitas yawned, he didn't even look like he cared.

"A pawn is just a pawn," he said nonchalantly.

"I still took it."

"Yeah so I could do this," he moved his horse past another of his pawns to her once champion piece.

"You sacrificed your pawn for my…"

"Bishop. That's the way the game is played," Vanitas tossed her bishop like he was flipping a coin, then grabbed it, crushing it tightly in his palm. "They don't matter, the king is the only one that needs to stay standing. You could lose every other poor bastard and still win."

"What if you win with all your pieces?" she asked, eyeing his clenched hand.

"You can't," he said when he tossed the bishop again, chipped from his grip. "You can't win the game without choosing to sacrifice something. Not everyone gets a happy ending."

Naminé moved her pawn back, retreating to the safety of her side. That just amused Vanitas and without warning he grabbed her wrist, twisting the skin under the roughness of his gloves.

"You can't save your pawns by standing still, wallowing on your side. Sooner or later something gives," he said, a low rumble in his voice.

"I'd like to try," she replied looking at where his hand met her wrist. He let go and laid on his side in a lazy matter.

Vanitas was right though. He effortlessly stole all her pieces anyway until he cornered her king and knocked it down with a smug flick of his wrist. His eyes flashed a burning gold.

"I win."

-x-

She missed Sora that day, she had spent the entire time playing chess with Vanitas. He showed her no mercy in each game, every win fed into his ego and made him even more eager for other overwhelming victories. Before she even began to learn how to fight back, the day was gone and wasted.

It only struck her later that the entire plan all along was to keep her away from Sora. She was playing his game, but it was a different one than what she imagined, and that thought was exhausting. She ran her hands to the edges of her pastel blond hair in contemplation, twisting the ends around her finger, if that was true then she wanted to know why now, but dragging the motive behind Vanitas's actions was a task she didn't know how to go about. Either way, the weekend arrived and she didn't know where to find Sora. Those days dragged on dully, flat and full of repetition; she tried to pass the time by dragging herself around the town, or wading her feet in the river, or trying to teach Riku's replica to speak, but the ticks of the clock still droned in a painfully slow rhythm.

Why would he want to separate Naminé and Sora?

Did it have to do with his face? Was he going to sacrifice Sora like he was a pawn? Or was Sora the rival king?

Naminé knew that on some level, Vanitas just enjoyed watching things break, he poked and prodded people until they bent and twisted for his own satisfaction, but she didn't think he was ever truly satisfied. She wondered if Vanitas had anything he loved simply because he had the capacity too. And for a second, she wondered if he did, would it be her and the replica, but she did not want to entertain those thoughts.

Whatever answer that would come from that would surely not lead to any happiness, so she squeezed and crushed them and stuffed them down deeper into a part of her mind she never visited.

When the weekend left Namine stared at the sky waiting for the day to begin. In the back of her head, she could still hear the slow ticks and tocks as the dawn before the start of classes rose again, the sunrise peeked out of the flat horizon and dyed it red and orange. Naminé wandered her way down main street waiting for school to being. Without the crowd of protests against the man named Ansem, it reverted back to the same drowsy, brown dusted town, stifled in its own silence.

She reached the tree grove, the shadows spilled long and thin in the sunrise. She had always thought it was an odd clash of scenery, a veritable block of forest of mismatched trees, surrounded with nothing but flatness as far as the eye could see. She leaned on a wide willow tree, her cheeks against the rough bark, she marveled that even the textures of the trees felt different.

"_I…hate… out."_

Her head jerked away, she thought she heard a faint voice within the tree. She looked around seeing nothing, then she spread her finger on the bark before slowly pressing her ear to it again "_I… it here_…_want_" it was a ghost of a whisper.

Do the trees here talk? Her cheek rubbed slightly against the willow and did her best to concentrate, mouth upturned as she focused. Her hand grabbed a low laying branch that wept low and brushed the ground, she accidentally snapped in concentration, "_get… to.. world."_

Ah.

_"I hate it here, I want to get out to the world."_

The answer to the small mystery formulated in her head, if the urban legend was that people whispered their secret into the tree, then she was hearing their secrets. It was oddly intimate, being able to hear something from the heart of a stranger that was meant to stay hidden, but curiosity welled in her, and she tip toed to the next tree, like she was scarred someone might be caught. Maybe she was ashamed about peeping into private thoughts.

"_know… love me_," said this one. It was hard to make out the voice, especially since there was another sound mixing with them, she hadn't noticed till now. It was a low rumbling, resonating slow and deep.

"The lifestream," she said in epiphany.

"What are you doing?" a sharp voice came.

She let out a tiny eep and tripped, rolling on the ground.

It was Riku, the real one, standing tall and a frown etched in handsome features. He looked at her suspiciously, and Naminé realized he still didn't recognize her from before. She would be offended but she figured she really must be a dismal existence. His arms crossed and his back went straight, like he was ready to cast judgment.

"Oh I was just- Nothing," she looked away from his eyes because they smoldered with scrutiny that made her want to shy behind a tree.

Riku was tired of waiting for an answer so he pushed forward, wandering in farther and ignoring her presence.

"What are you doing?" she repeated his question to him.

"Going for a walk before school," is all he offered as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Are you going to your tree?" she asked. She remembered that Sora told her that they did their tree-whispering together and she wanted to find it, "Where is it anyway?"

He turned a sharp 180 on his heels, and Naminé realized too late that she touched a nerve, "And who the hell are you?"

"N-Naminé."

Riku pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, "That was rhetorical. Whatever, I'll just go to school." He shrugged his backpack higher on his one shoulder and walked away. Naminé trailed behind him.

"Why are you following me?" he asked without turning his head.

"I'm going too."

"Oh," then he examined her from over his shoulder, squinting like she was behind fog and dirt- difficult to see, "I guess you would go to school my school?"

This struck Naminé as odd, it was not as if there was another school in Destiny Plains a girl her age could attend; it was the kind of town that only had one of anything. And he didn't seem the kind of person who couldn't put two and two together. Naminé hurried ahead of him, as far as people that could see her, Riku wasn't the most pleasant. She wanted to see Sora like people wanted to see the sun.

Inside the school, tired, clamoring bodies trudged to their seats and it reminded her setting up a chess board, placing everyone where they were supposed to be. She sat in the empty desk, swinging her legs like a child. She wondered if this was where she was supposed to go as well.

The chair next to her squeaked irritably on the floor as it was pulled out.

"Sora-"

It wasn't Sora's face that greeted Naminé, but one that may as well been a reflection of her own. This girl wasn't identical, instead of ashen blond this one had red hair that framed her heart shaped face, her eyes shone like they had the sun in them, and her red lips smiled wider than hers. Naminé looked at her own pallid skin, and then the girl's, tinged darker from days spent basking outside. It made her look more alive than Naminé, which was the most noticeable difference of all.

"Are you new?" the girl asked friendly, not caring about the sameness of their face. Naminé was taken aback again, this time by the knowledge that this girl that looked like her could also see her as well. Perhaps it wasn't such a rare occurrence after all. Naminé swallowed the air, it tasted sick.

"Um, kind of. I'm Naminé," Naminé played with the ends of her much paler, limp hair. Her eyes kept going back and forth to her and the girl, listing the comparisons in her head.

"Riku!" the girl in Sora's seat exclaimed when he sat next to her.

"What, who are you?" he frowned.

"Oh right," the girl slapped her forehead, "It's me Kairi."

The effect of her name was instantaneous, both on Riku and Naminé. Riku's stony face softened, a small smile turned on the corners of his lips and his brows relaxed.

Naminé, in turn, felt her world spin and blood pounded in her ears. Didn't Sora say she was dead? She suddenly felt like she had no solid ground to walk on- where was Sora? Why was Kairi here? She needed to talk to Sora, the seconds felt colder and more frightening.

"Where's Sora?" she blurted.

The expressions on Riku's and Kairi's faces turned dark, like she flipped the light switch off.

"Naminé, you don't know?" Kairi's voice was hoarser than it should have been.

"He's gone. He's been dead for a year."

She felt a cold arm slink around her neck like a noose, and Vanitas finally appeared, muffling a laugh in her ear.

_But there's no such things as ghosts_.

* * *

**A/N** Originally the reveal was suppose to happen sooner, but I pushed it back to give Sora a more regular appearance in this story. I feel that the metaphysics in this story is wacky, and involves a lot of explanation which leads to a lot of boring scenes. But I figure if there's one fandom that I can explore weird, barely comprehensible world rules, it's Kingdom Hearts Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows!

**TheDarkestZero**: Thanks for the review. Yeah, all three have weird complexes about existing, well. Most people in KH's do but these three especially. If Nomura ever decides to give Namine a trio since she's all alone, these three won't be a terrible fit.

**Dragonachu:** They are a bit of a twisted family, but the twisted part makes them equally scary and endearing. I will take the blame proudly for getting people into Van/Namine. Never can have enough interesting crack pairings.


	5. Chapter 5: A Story About a Girl

_A Lonely Story About Nobody_

Chapter 5: A Story About a Girl

Naminé found that red was her most versatile paint. Red for the sunrise, red for roses, red for blood, red for passion, red for love, red for anger, red for warning. Now there was Kairi red. Strands of her hair clouded Naminé's vision, falling brilliantly down to her shoulders, past her face. _Her_ face. Not Naminé's face.

Naminé felt Vanitas' grip tighten, his vine like clothes felt odd against her throat. Vanitas' voice hit a false sugary tone, so sweet it made Naminé want to grind her teeth, "You're back Kairi. It's _wonderful_ to see you again."

Kairi nodded, "Vanitas, right? Yeah, it's been awhile since I felt good enough to come back. I would have come earlier but my dad actually rode his tractor off the side of the road, and it put our schedule back for awhile. That man."

The redhead shook her head affectionately, and Naminé glanced at Vanitas, she remembered when Vanitas forced a farmer off the road right into the rice patties, she thought it was just another prank. Vanitas must have known what she was thinking because he winked.

"It's so good to be back," Kairi stretched her long pretty arms in front of her, splaying her fingers and looking through them. "I'm not meant to be bed ridden, it felt like I was about to grow roots."

"You sure you're okay?" Riku asked worriedly, it was as if he was a completely different person with Kairi at his side. His face wasn't as severe, his posture wasn't as tense, and he looked more open that Naminé had ever seen him. His arm reached out to Kairi's, but the contact must have burned them because they both recoiled quickly.

Riku looked guilty, but Kairi just looked sad.

"Y-yeah. You know me, I never change. Still just charging head first. Oh," she said, happy to change the subject, "You and Naminé are in the same class? You guys know each other?"

Naminé nodded. "We met before."

"Who?" Riku looked dully at her. Naminé stared back confused and Vanitas looked like he was having more fun as the conversation went on.

"At the tree grove."

Realization dawned on him, "Oh yeah." Then he slunk down on his chair, the mood soured around him.

Kairi leaned towards Naminé and whispered, "If you don't know about Sora, you don't know about Riku, right?"

"No, what?" Vanitas said feigning innocence, he inclined closer to Kairi, forcing Naminé with him.

"He's not being rude, I mean, more so than usual. Since Sora left... he's had Prosopagnosia," she told them and when she didn't get a reaction she amended, "Face blindness."

"It must be so horrible," Vanitas gasped for the show of it next to her ear, she could feel his cold breath flow with the words. He pressed his hand theatrically to his mouth in pretend shock, hiding a smile that only Naminé could see. Face blindness… it made a lot of sense while simultaneously creating more questions.

"Alright, stop talking in the back," a ruler slammed on the desk as the teacher demanded their attention. Kairi and Riku both looked forward. Vanitas put released his arm from her neck and slid onto the desk in front of her, kicking his legs cheerfully in the air. No one paid him any attention.

"Riku and his face blindess. Kairi and her sickness. And Sora. And us," she said, quietly so only Vanitas could hear. "You."

Vanitas pointed to himself cheerfully at her last word.

"What are you planning to do?" she began to tremble. She had always thought he was just an agent of chaos, destruction in the wind. But there was something more, the way he played her and the people around him made her think that there was a method in the madness.

"Me, I'm just taking what's mine," his finger traced her lips when he said the word _mine_. "I'm crossing the board and taking the king."

_No_. Naminé had not said it but she stood up to her full height, which was neither impressive nor beautiful. But it still made her message clear.

Naminé refused. She would not let their lives begin and end with Vanitas. Even if she had to challenge Vanitas. She stared at him hard, mouth in a tight line and determination shaking in her tiny body.

Vanitas' smile slowly faded from his borrowed face.

-x-

"You should go home," Riku said to Kairi after school ended, but instead she looped kindly arms around Naminé's.

"I don't want to," Kairi said, jokingly hiding behind Naminé's scrawny frame. "Come on Naminé. Let's go play."

She found herself being pulled along at Kairi's excited pace, and she couldn't help but think of how the vibrant girl reminded her of Sora. The way her eyes always faced forward like she was looking for adventure over the horizon, the way she smiled bright and dazzling, how she pulled Naminé and Riku into conversations before they knew it, even how walked with purpose Naminé could never hope to have.

It wasn't just that they were similar, Naminé understood, they felt like parts that belonged together, pieces of a puzzle incomplete with just one. They were sunny and full of life, but there was always something _missing_, the way that Sora sometimes struggled with words, or how Kairi would look towards Naminé's seat expectantly, but always flashed small disappointment afterwards. The idea that Naminé was a poor substitute for both made her feel sad and tired, and it strengthened her resolve to fix all the rips and tears in their lives, she felt she owned them that for taking their seat.

"Kairi, you shouldn't push yourself so soon," Riku warned gently.

"Oh Riku, how gallant. Always looking after her without any ulterior motives," Vanitas voiced sang from behind Riku, and Riku's face paled just slightly, "But honestly, Kairi deserves this right? When is the last time you got to play in the sun?"

"Right," Kairi nodded furiously in agreement.

Said sun was white hot that day, burning into their skin and into the dry grass, so that Naminé's bare feet felt like it was walking on embers. It sweltered thickly, hovering near the ground, and Naminé could see both Kairi and Riku's sweat glisten down their necks in just the short walk. The wind was no relief, even it was hot and suffocating, blowing heat directly in the faces. Riku loosened the collar of his shirt with his finger.

But Kairi didn't care, she just gritted her teeth and stomped on the ground like she was showing it she couldn't be stopped.

"Kairi, are you sure you want to walk around?" Naminé echoed Riku's sentiments but Kairi frowned.

"Not you too."

"That right, doll," Vanitas cheered from ahead of them, swinging his arm around Riku who promptly shoved it off. "Why would you let this opportunity slide.? You guys would get along swimmingly. Like twins."

Without warning Kairi pushed Naminé to the side, straight into the store next to them, leaving the two boys unaware and still walking ahead. It was slightly more comfortable inside the building out of the direct rays of the sun, but it still felt uncomfortably warm. Sad, homemade shelves displayed old fashioned shoes and the place smelled overwhelmingly of leather.

"Shoe shopping is a girl thing anyway," Kairi grinned mischievously. "Don't want the boys complaining and telling us we need a break or something."

Kairi looked to her feet, "Do you need new shoes?"

"No, but you do," Kairi said and Naminé was taken aback. No one else had noticed, she assumed that it was difficult to concentrate on something like her. Maybe it was like trying to look through a glass of water, she and Vanitas were there but blurry and faint.

"Girls notice things like these." Kairi flipped her hair nonchalantly, looking through the shelves.

"I don't have any munny," Naminé said lamely, she conveniently didn't say anything about her often taking paint and candy from stores without paying. She hadn't really thought about it as stealing, but she supposed it was. It was easier in anonymity, where she wasn't connected to anything, but here in plain sight of Kairi, taking things would feel awkward and dirty. She didn't want to think of her as a thief, not of shoes, not of face.

Kairi waved it off, "That's okay I have some."

"But-"

"Don't take this away from me," suddenly Kairi's face was serious, but it was only a second and it melted back to an easy smile. "You are the only person I heard say Sora's name for a long time. I want to reward that. People always walk on eggshells around me, it gets tiring. I have plenty of munny, but conversations well- it's been harder and harder lately."

"O-okay," Naminé didn't think she should argue. She wasn't even sure she _could_ against Kairi. "Um, how about these?" She pulled out pale, blue sandals.

"No, that's so boring," Kairi pouted before picking up another pair and laying it at her feet. "Try these."

Naminé hesitantly stepped in red shoes, glittering brightly, it looked almost obscene. The shoes were easily the most eye catching thing in the store, it made sense that Kairi would pick it. The red was so vivid it made her look even more washed out, clashing terrible. Naminé took an experimental step forward and heard the click of low heels.

"How do they feel?"

_Borrowed._

"I like them," it wasn't too much of a lie. As uncomfortable as it was, it was also exciting, and while it was strange to think that wearing something was thrilling, in a small sad world of hers, it just was. It was like wearing something braver and more bold than her, but at the same time the bright red shoes didn't feel like hers. It stood out sorely.

"That settles it," Kairi said, putting the munny on the counter and briskly walked out before Naminé could protest. The woman behind the counter nodded cheerfully, brown bangs swaying in movement. Naminé tried to follow Kairi's pace in the new shoes, the clicking was awkward and out of rhythm.

"Kairi?" Riku was pacing up and down the streets, brows scrunched in worry, his low voice pitched an octave higher. He looked straight at the lively girl then away, still calling her name.

"I'm here Riku," she said waving slightly, Riku's eyes snapped back scrutinizing her. Then his shoulders relaxed.

"Don't do that to me. If I lose sight of where everyone is, I won't be able to find you, even if I see you."

Kairi at least had the decency to look regretful, "Sorry. We had to get Naminé shoes. Aren't they cute."

"Sure," Riku deadpanned, not bothering to look. Instead he just pushed his silver bangs aside to wipe the sweat off his forehead, looking at the sky with disgust. It was only getting hotter.

This made Kairi more determined, and she dragged Naminé around like the doll Vanitas always called her. It didn't help that anytime Riku would insist they stop, Vanitas would interrupt him and urge her on. She could see the frustration tense on his shoulders.

"Ah," Naminé feigned lightheadedness, stumbling a bit on nothing, "I'm getting hot. Can we sit for a second?"

Kairi paused, looking torn between her vague destination and Naminé. She wanted to go on, her body practically buzzed with the need to continue walking, but looking closer Naminé could see her eyes start to droop from the toll the heat was taking on her.

"If Naminé wants to stop, we should stop," Riku said gratefully.

"She's fine," Vanitas said stepping towards the girl's side. He ran a cold hand against her cheek. "See? Not a drop of sweat on her. Besides, it would take just as long as to walk back to town than anywhere else." He traced it all the way to the collarbone.

"R-Right?" Kairi nodded looking hopefully at Naminé, guilt washed over her. Kairi looked like she needed this the way men in a desert needed water. The craving was just as strong as the hotness that boiled over them.

"I mean really," Vanitas drawled putting, hand leaving Naminé to Kairi's shoulder, "How often do you get to go outside with the sun up anyway? Who knows when you will get this chance again?"

Kairi licked her lips, her eyes flickering to the plains and to Naminé. She was a naturally selfless girl, but Naminé could see hunger in her eyes.

"Where do _you_ want to go, Kairi?" Vanitas urged, a sly look on his face.

"I…" she faltered for a second, "Well everywhere. It's been awhile since I could walk around."

"It's all the same," Riku said flatly. "Nothing here changes, you're not missing anything."

"That's easy for you to say. I don't get to see this everyday," Kairi said, anxious hands played with the ends of her red, red hair. Just like Naminé sometimes did, even her habits weren't her own. "I want to walk by the river again, I want to sit underneath my tree. I want to see the new house on the hill, the one that Ansem built, people say that it's haunted by a witch now."

"Do they?" Vanitas grinned at Naminé like he found a new toy, and whispered so that only she could hear "You hear that? Would you rather me call you that?"

"You could just call me by my name," Naminé countered.

The heat seeped into Riku's bones, making them straighten, and making him angrier, "Kairi you're being ridiculous. There's no such things as witches or ghosts or anything else supernatural. Focus on reality, you need to get back- come on."

Tired of the pleading routine, Riku irritably grabbed Kairi's upper arm, but she shrugged him off. "Stop telling me what to do!"

Vanitas whispered like a snake in her ear, "You deserve to be out in the sun."

"I deserve to be out in the sun," Kairi repeated.

"Let's just take a second and calm down," Naminé tried to placate them, but they didn't even react to her, like she was finally as invisible to them as she was to the rest of the world.

"This is for your own good," Riku said grabbing her arm again, this time rougher. Naminé winced away at the sudden intensity of the act, but Kairi ground her feet deeper into the earth and soil, making her stand. She was panting like a dog, but it was hard to tell if it was from the heat or from anger.

"You always say that, you and Sora always made decisions on your own! What about me, what about my feelings?"

"Kairi!" Riku was yelling now, his voice boomed and dissipated her resolve. Kairi looked taken aback, then all the energy left her body and her knees collapsed. Riku grabbed her before she fell to the floor and cradled her against his chest. Her skin was hot from the sun, and her face was flushed.

"Kairi?" Riku said, now quiet and frightened. She shook her head at the sound of his voice, delirious.

"Not yet, I don't want it to be over yet," she probably would have cried if she wasn't too dehydrated for tears to fall.

"Oh no," Vanitas clapped his hands dramatically on his cheeks, "Look at what you did, Riku!"

"N-no I didn't," Riku said panicking, holding Kairi tighter to him, "It's heatstroke. I'm the one that told her we needed to stop."

"You screamed at a sick girl and then she fainted. Of course she overheated when you kept on her like a rabid dog. And this to a girl you supposedly…" he didn't finish that sentence, he simply put a finger to his own mouth, silencing himself.

Riku's eyes darted around, the full weight of his guilt gnawing at his nerves, "I didn't mean to."

"No one ever does, but you did. How many things are you going to ruin before you wise up. Hurry and take her home before you do anymore damage."

Riku ran against the hot wind like the devil was after him. Vanitas followed him, stepping lightly on his toes laughing to himself, but Naminé didn't, she was staring at where Riku and Kairi fought. At Riku's feet, his shadow ran obediently behind him, but not Kairi's. Her shadow was left where she collapsed, a pool of vague black against the dry, browning grass. When Naminé reached to touch it, it flickered like it was being cast by a candle in the wind, and then dashed away.

Kairi lost her shadow.

-x-

When she arrived at their house, the replica of Riku was at the door, waiting faithfully and patiently.

"Riku," she said tiredly, and in response he dropped his head to her shoulder, soft locks of long hair brushed against her skin. She patted his bowed head affectionately as she closed the door behind them.

"Naminé," it said. He could say one word sentences now, and Naminé couldn't help but think he was becoming more and more like a person rather than… rather than a cloud, drifting aimlessly without any way to reach him. The thought gave her something like pride, hope, everytime he said her name it made her smile.

She walked to her painting, sitting in contemplation. The replica followed, swaying on his feet like a tree in the wind.

"Where's my red?" she asked no one. She found the paint, and for the first time used the brush, placing the tip next to the river. She painted Kairi's hair first, the red on the wall almost looked as if could pop out and breathe life in of itself, she made it as vibrant as she could. When she painted Kairi's face, she just imagined her own, and then drew a smile. She didn't draw her shadow.

Next came Riku with his silver hair and aqua eyes, he stood much taller and looked sadder. Then brown haired, smiling Sora, she painted his edges but the color faded closer to the middle, like he was transparent.

Yes this was right, this is the big picture; Sora, Kairi, and Riku. They had been separated, and without them all together, it felt like her picture couldn't be completed. She tilted her head to consider the three figures, how could she fit them together? How could she make _them_ work.

"Is that them?" Vanitas asked by her ear, she hadn't even heard him come in. "It's hard to tell. It looks like it's just a vomit of color. You really are bad at this."

When Naminé put down her brush, he frowned, as if she was the one that just insulted him.

"Is that it?" he growled.

"What?"

"Where are we?"

Naminé looked at the picture and then back at him, "We aren't there."

"I know, why the hell not?"

"Vanitas," she said turning to him, "We don't belong in this picture, not me. Not you. You know that, right?"

Before she could blink she was against the wall, wet paint rubbing off on her dress, he was pinning her with the length of his arm. He looked like he was snarling, baring his teeth like a rabid animal and gold eyes widening in madness.

"What the fuck do you know, _witch_?" he spat, crushing against her.

"This isn't our story, we aren't really people anyway," Naminé said and Vanitas pushed his head so close they bumped noses. It was sympathy, rather than fear, that washed over her, no matter what happened before- now he just looked like an anxious child throwing a temper tantrum. She gingerly brought up her small arms around his back and pushed him further in. "It's okay to be scared Vanitas."

"I'm not scared," he countered into her neck, "I'm taking it all. My life, mine. Not Sora's. Mine."

"No it's not," she said sadly, running her hand down his back comfortingly, her words and actions were a contradiction. She didn't know what he did to the three, but she knew he and her where the same in the basics, they were borrowed. Even the replica. The comfort just made him more furious and he began to push her farther into the wall until she felt like she was being crushed.

A hand flashed between them to Vanitas' neck. Riku replica looked furious, his hand tightened and he lifted Vanitas from the ground with one arm. The replica was normally slouched so it was hard to tell, but at that moment he was easily a head taller Vanitas, so his feet weren't even scraping the ground.

Vanitas scowled, the angry lines on his face deepened as he clawed at the arm keeping him in the air, tearing at the skin. The replica didn't even flinch. Vanitas stopped suddenly, and his head dropped like he lost the will to fight, or he died. Then it snapped back up and he let out an insane laugh.

"Look at that, he's actually mad enough to try and choke me. But what do you know, we don't even need to breath."

"Riku," Naminé whispered softly as she gently guided his arm down to release Vanitas. The replica's face frowned, but then he let her lower his arms. It took more cajoling to get him to release his clasp, but when he did, he turned to her and hugged her like a young child.

"Ha. Look at you, what a fucking saint. Leaving your existence out of your own picture. Saving me after I throw you around like a doll."

"Vanitas, I don't know what you did to them, or what you are trying to do," Naminé started, "But I don't like it. Please stop, for me."

"Please, witch," he said getting use to her new nickname, yellow eyes closing. "I didn't do a thing to them but provoke them a little. This was a tragedy they wrote themselves."

"I don't believe you," she said. Vanitas' glared into her eyes. "But regardless, Vanitas. We have to let them live their lives. And this, this is our home, and you and the replica, you two are the closest thing to family I have."

"Well then," he said in odd monotone, "That might be the most tragic part of all of this."

* * *

AN: Sorry for the lateness. Kinda lost inspiration.

**Madhatta51**: Ha, Vanitas is the kind of person that even if he did care for them, he would do anything in his power to prove it otherwise. There is an odd feeling of intimacy and protectiveness which runs counter to who he is, or who he thinks he is. Sometimes he draws Namine closer, sometimes he pushes her away. His reactions to Repliku are a bit more consistent, but even that is vague. Silly Vanitas.

**decemberStars: **Vanitas is nothing without his inner snark, it's so fun to write. TY for the review.


End file.
